Atimist

Enough A man sat out on a park bench, Needing a break from that old wench, Who nagged him all day, and wouldn’t go away For the man had just about enough Enough of her bickering The complaining, bossing, and snickering It was all day long, like a broken-record song For the man had just about enough And while on that bench he finally snapped He’d lost his mind, he’d finally cracked He couldn’t take it any more, when he walked though that door For the man had just about enough Now what I say next is an awfully done deed For that man killed his wife, without taking heed To himself, to his paw, to his conscienc